


7.5°

by Enchantable



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes Week 2019, Hurt/Comfort, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 20:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18785608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: Alex breaks the second prison and winds up on the wrong end of another alien’s abilities. Fighting on his own is nothing new, neither is fighting his own body. Being trapped there by an alien is. Will he be able to make it back?





	1. Day 1: Dreaming with a Broken Heart

_The second prison break goes much better._

_Hooray._

_Actually it goes perfectly. Everyone is cooperative, they are able to get them out and ferried onto buses. Everyone looks cautious but happy to be not locked in a prison. Alex is in full solider mode but he knows how scary that can be. He approaches a woman who stares at the prison. Something about her seems almost familiar. He doesn’t think too much about it. She turns towards him and smiles._

_“Thank you,” she says._

_He takes the hand she reaches out._

_He’s out before he hits the ground_

* * *

 

He opens his eyes to the hospital room.

It’s late or early, depending on how you look at it and Alex is aware that he’s floating in a haze of drugs. He remembers seeing the state of his ankle after the IED went off. He can feel the compression boot inflating and deflating against one foot. He’s painfully aware that it is not the foot with the twisted ankle. He can feel nothing on that side.

The Air Force stripped him of everything that made him ‘him’. Except for his broken heart. But they taught him to bear the pain of it. Alex knew he would never see that version of himself again, but he always assumed he would come back bigger and stronger. More capable. Laying in the hospital bed he feels like he’s nothing. Less than nothing. Whatever he’s dreamed off, it’s sent him back to the waking world in terror. Or maybe that’s the drugs, he’s not sure.

It takes a lot to grab the phone by the bed.

Alex pushes aside the nauseating pain. Instead he puts the headset under his shoulder and jams in a number he’s long since memorized. The phone rings several times before it connects. The din of the bar is instantly familiar. Alex doesn’t exactly miss it, but he’s not calling for that. He doesn’t know if he has the words to spell out what he’s calling for. Thankfully, the universe gives him some fraction of light when he hears a gentle sigh.

“Hang on, I’ll get him,” Mimi DeLuca says, “Guerin!”

A moment later the phone transfers hands and Alex realizes he hasn’t thought this through. Not at all. Not thinking things through isn’t something he does anymore. He almost hangs up then and there. But after a moment there’s a deep throat clearing. Alex claps his hand over his mouth and tries not to make a sound.

“‘Yello?” Michael says, “Wild Bull—ow!” Alex can practically hear the glare, “who is this?” He asks. After a moment, he sighs, “Alex.”

“Hey,” he gets out.

“Hey?” Michael repeats back, “what do you want, Alex?”

“Just had a chance to call,” Alex gets out.

“Uh huh,” Michael says, “that it?”

He is not going to sob on the phone. Not to Michael, not to anyone. His leg is gone and he can’t stop shaking, but he can keep from sobbing. He can do that. He covers the mouthpiece as he exhales himself back to being steady. He puts it back to his mouth.

“Yes,” he says.

Michael pauses. Alex can perfectly envision the look on his face. Above the din of the bar, he hears the chair scrape and he can see Michael moving to a quieter area of the bar. The din seems to die down significantly. Alex thinks he can’t have actually given himself away. It’s been years since they’ve seen each other in more than passing. Michael couldn’t have picked up on anything from the breaths he took.

“What’s wrong?” Michael asks.

“It’s a bad connection,” Alex lies. He hears Michael’s huff of disappointment, “how was your day?”

“You want to hear about my day?” Michael repeats.

“Yes,” Alex blurts out. His leg is starting to feel like fire, “yes. How was your day?”

“I don’t—“ Michael hesitates. Alex bites his lip, trying to will the pain back. He refuses to give into its fathomless depths. He’s not too proud to beg but God, he needs to have something, “what do you care?” Michael asks.

“Please tell me about your day,” Alex blurts out, not caring about how his voice sounds.

“Uh my day sucked,” Michael says and Alex almost sobs with the kindness of small mercies, “I woke up in the holding cell with Max getting his dad on. He wouldn’t let me out for a couple hours because he’s a dick—“

Alex props the phone up on his ear and listens as Michael talks. His words start to blur together and he just listens to the deep tone of his voice. It’s easy to tell himself all sorts of lies. The hospital room becomes the back of his truck, his pillow becomes Michael’s stomach as Alex lays half on top of him. His foot isn’t missing, it’s just fallen asleep. He’s okay. He’s okay because he’s with the person he loves.

He’s okay.

* * *

 

_“You’re okay, come on Alex, you’re fine,” he hears Michael say the words._

_Of course he’s fine._

_But his mouth won’t work and his eyes won’t open. He can vaguely place Michael’s voice coming from above him and the ground is moving so he’s still in the car. Michael has him propped up, bracing him with his body. He doesn’t know how he got there. He wasn’t involved. So either he found out or they are somehow back in Roswell. Neither option is appealing. Michael smooths his hair back from his forehead and then flattens the back of his hand to it._

_“He’s burning up!” He announces, “what the hell happened?!”_

_“I don’t know!” Kyle snaps back, “I called you because you’re the alien!”_

_“I barely know what I can do!”_

_If they didn’t sound so worried, Alex thinks he could enjoy them bantering. Honestly he doesn’t know what they’re worried about. He’s fine. He just has to figure out how to open his eyes again and make his jaw work so he can tell them that. He plans on doing it but first he can just close his eyes. Just for five minutes._


	2. Day 2: Alternate Universe (Eros & Psyche)

****The room is oppressively dark.

Alex takes a deep breath. Despite how he came to this place, so far things have been nothing but wonderful. Despite being dressed for his own funeral, nothing here has made him fear for his life. The darkness presses around him like a living thing, but he lets the invisible force guide him along until he feels the edge of a bed. It’s piled high with pillows and softer than anything Alex has felt. In the thick darkness, he hears someone else enter the room.

“You’re safe, it’s alright,” the voice says. The same voice that told him to make himself at home, “I’d say ‘it’s just me’ but that’s kind of strange since you don’t know who I am.”

Alex smiles in spite of himself, though it’s lost in the darkness. He hears the footfalls of the man who approaches him, the man who he’s fated to be with. Who he married. The gods are angry at him for beauty he never asked for. He’s the only unmarried sibling and the people were entranced by him. The oracle told his father he had angered the Gods and would be forced to marry a monster as punishment. But so far there’s nothing monstrous about the palace he’s in and the monster has a pleasant enough voice.

“It’s a little weird marrying someone you’ve never seen,” he says, “I imagined your vows were touching.”

“Heartfelt,” the voice says, “I’m a poet.”

“I’m sure,” Alex says.

He’s not prepared for the warm brush of fingers along this jaw. The monster he has married chuckles and it’s a warm sound that makes Alex’s toes curl against the marble. The monster moves his fingers along Alex’s jaw and Alex almost chases the feel of his fingertips. He doesn’t pull back but he doesn’t give into either. Not even when the monster’s thumb brushes his bottom lip.

“Have you ever been kissed?” He asks. Alex shakes his head, “May I?”

“We’re married,” he gets out.

“If you told me to leave I would,” the monster assures him, “do you want me to go?”

Alex thinks of his father’s oppressive rule and his brothers and the hell his life is in that world. There is nothing in this darkness that he needs to be afraid of. Especially not the company that lingers in it. Alex takes the hand with his own and presses his lips to the palm of it. He hears the monster inhale sharply. The hand is suddenly replaced with a pair of lips Alex instantly feels as though he knows as well as his own. The monster kisses him so deeply and warmly that though he has no way to see, Alex finds himself pushing up into the kiss regardless. He feels the monster shift and he realizes he’s slightly taller than it. The monster pushes him backwards and follows, dragging a knee in between his legs. His hands rise in the darkness and the monster places them on himself.

“You’re warm,” Alex gasps out.

“I run hot,” the monster says, placing open kisses down the column of Alex’s throat, “is that a problem?”

“We probably won’t need the blankets.”

The monster pauses and then laughs, easing more of the tension in the room. Kissing around laughter, Alex finds, is by far the best way to kiss.

* * *

 

_“Why isn’t he waking up!” He hears the anxious sound of pacing, “I’m calling Isobel,” he says._

_“Wait,” Kyle cuts in, thank God, “Isobel can’t just go fishing around in his head!”  
_

_“Why not?! That’s where he’s stuck!”_

_“Because she can’t! He’s been asleep for a day. His vitals are stable. He is—“  
_

_“I knew it,” Michael spits and Alex shudders at that tone. He knows that tone, “this whole thing has just been some bullshit act. You want him hurt. You’re probably enjoying this!”_

_“Michael,” he hears Kyle’s voice switch. Kyle’s a saint, “you know that’s not true. Alex is going to be fine but we both know that someone going in his head isn’t what he would want.”_

_“But—“ he hears the doubt in Michael’s voice, before the anger comes back, “it doesn’t matter he would want to be awake!”_

_“I’m sorry, the only person who can make medical decisions for Alex is—“ oh shit, Alex thinks, “me.”_

_“You?!”_

_“Yes, me. He put me as his medical proxy when we found out about the aliens. We’re human, we needed to know each others wishes if something like this happened.”_

_He can hear Michael’s teeth grind together. He doesn’t regret putting Kyle in charge of his decisions. Liz is his backup. Kyle has him then LIz. Liz put Kyle, then him. But he knows the look on Michael’s face. Even being unable to open his eyes. He wills himself to let go of this brief bout of being semi conscious because he can hear the floor creak._

_He doesn’t want to hear Michael leave._

* * *

 

“He could be a monster and you could have no idea,” Flint voices.

“Not seeing him is strange,” his other brother points out, “he must have something to hide.”

Alex hates his brother’s abilities to put voice to his doubts. But he can’t deny they have a point. His husband is a man of secrets in many ways. But he’s also open in many more. It’s not as terrifying as he thought it would be, to love someone he cannot see. But it is becoming a problem. Alex knows he cannot go on like this. His brothers have just made that clearer. He needs to know what he is dealing with. He can love his husband if he is a monster, but he cannot love him if he continues to lie.

That night when his husband is asleep, Alex slips out of bed. His brothers have left him a lamp, the thing not permitted in this part of the house and something he’s smuggled in. Alex doesn’t feel guilty for doing it. He just feels that same frustration at the constant pushback. He knows he only has one moment to do this. He lights the lamp and picks up his blade. He doesn’t know what he will find. The steps to the bed are the longest since he had to walk to his own funeral. He lifts the light up to see the whole picture.

It’s a man.

He’s all golden skin and strong lines. He is slightly shorter and his head is crowned in an almost ridiculous mop of curls. He’s sprawled out and one arm is still extended towards Alex’s side of the bed, a look of distress on his otherwise serene features. He is the most beautiful man that Alex has ever seen. And that’s before he realizes the reason his husband is always careful about where he guides his hands is because there are a massive pair of wings sprouting from his shoulders. Alex has to rework his earlier assumption. His husband is not a man, nor is he a monster. He’s a God.

Alex means to only look for a moment, just to see the truth but he winds up standing for much longer. Long enough for the light to reach into whatever dreams his husband is having. He can’t look away as his husband’s brow draws together and his eyes open. They are hazel and fogged with sleep and confusion and when they turn to him, for a moment Alex sees the love in them before it morphs into surprise. He moves quickly but neither of them are prepared for the massive wings. One of them brushes him and Alex jumps. It’s impossible to tell whose fault it is but the lamp goes flying. He hears the god’s grunt of pain.

“Michael—“ he finally knows his husband’s name. In the renewed darkness there’s a sharp inhale, “Michael—“

“You weren’t supposed to know!”

The pain in his voice makes Alex’s chest ache even though he knows that’s not fair. He cannot be asked to stay married to someone he doesn’t know, what kind of life is that? But causing Michael pain hurts. And that’s even before the smell of charred flesh lays heavy in the air. Michael is hurt every which way and Alex can feel it in his bones. It matches his own pain at this situation. He feels Michael’s fingertips brush against his face one last time, but he’s not fast enough to grab his hand as it does.

There’s a gust of wind as Michael unfurls his massive wings.

And then the darkness is gone and Alex is very much alone.

* * *

 

_“I’m not gonna just let you suffer,” Michael’s voice is close. So close. And low. It’s strange to hear him whispering. Michael is always so loud these days. It really is a wonder that he was able to hide being an alien for so long. Alex’s favorite game of torturing himself these days is to think if he had stayed, how long would he have been able to keep it a secret? Alex is good at figuring out other people’s secrets, “I know I hurt you, but I’m not just gonna sit here—“ Michael cuts himself off, “I’m gonna fix this. In the right way this time, not the usual way.”_

_Something in Alex’s chest clenches. He knows Michael thinks he’s a fuck up. But it goes farther than that. It’s something Alex understands. There’s a particular kind of self loathing that comes with knowing your parents don’t want you. Hate you. The knowledge that may not have been true doesn’t undo the twenty years where it was. He wants to tell Michael he fucked up, he’s fucked up a lot, but that doesn’t mean he is a fuck up. He’s more than that. So much more than that. It’s another thing they have in common and the pride Alex feels at that is something he can’t put into words._

_“You’re gonna be okay,” he repeats, “and then I’m gonna—“ he stops, “I’m gonna prove that Kyle should get demoted on your medical forms.”_

_A warm rush of affection crashes over Alex. There should be nothing romantic about Michael vowing to dethrone Kyle but there’s something so profoundly earnest about the way he says it. Alex has always loved stubborn, determined Michael best of all. If any Michael had to show up and see him like this, he’s almost glad it’s this one. Though overall he would prefer no-one saw this._

* * *

 

Alex was married to a god. No, Alex is married to a god. He is still married. He has just lost his husband. He refuses to think of this as anything more than temporary. Which is how he winds up in front of his husband, the god’s, irate mother. Mara, the goddess of love, is beautiful but when he looks at her, all Alex can see is the husband he’s wounded. The husband who lied to him. Mostly the husband he wants to see again.

“You may serve me as penance,” the goddess says.

“Is Michael alright?” Alex asks.

“I don’t answer questions from servants,” she says and vanishes with a flick of her blonde hair.

Alex obeys her requests and orders, doing everything she asks. He can do this, he’s never been the type to shy away from hard work. Or battles. But it gets infuriating the longer it drags on. Mara’s protectiveness of her son is something Alex always longed for with his family, something he never got. Some people are not meant to be parents, Alex thinks it might be the reverse for him. He was never meant to be anyone’s son.

Or someone’s husband, he thinks as he looks at the impossible task before him. 

He’s accomplished so many but this may be the one that undoes him. He’s so used to feeling Michael watch him from the shadows, but he’s felt nothing of him since the time he arrived at his mothers house. Perhaps he has just done too much and Michael cannot forgive him. He’s too late and his love his unwanted. All that he’s accomplished and he doesn’t think he can return to Mara’s house with the latest task she sent him on.

He ignores the breeze and undoes the latch of the box, peering inside. The breeze picks up but there’s nothing in there save for darkness as thick as the one he met his husband in. It clouds his eyes and smothers his senses. Dimly he’s aware of the breeze becoming a gust of wind, he doesn’t need eyes to see the wings that could make it so. The box falls and he follows it into oblivion, only able to feel the tremor of Michael’s landing. Only able to hear the shout of his name.

“Alex!”


	3. Day 3: Alex interacting with others he hasn’t yet. (Isobel)

He’s in a corner of his mind he’s never been in before. Or that’s what he thinks. He’s not entirely sure. There’s just white on white on white, he has a feeling that the walls go on forever. Alex is new to the different powers that the aliens possess, but he can guess who is doing this from the snippets of conversations that he’s overheard. When he turns around, he’s not surprised to see Isobel behind him. He is moderately surprised to see she’s in a pvc catsuit, a pair of tiny sunglasses perched on her nose and her hair in a severe ponytail. 

“Why are you dressed like Trinity?” He asks. 

“Sometimes it’s soothing to see people dressed in familiar things,” she says. 

“Really?”

Isobel takes off the sunglasses and catches him with a withering look. Alex has been through a lot in his own head, he’s more than happy to stare her down. This seems to catch her slightly off guard, but not enough to deter her from giving him a truly predatorily smile. Alex has yet to see Max or Isobel in their natural elements. Hell, he barely has seen Michael in his. But something about this makes him feel wary, even of being in his own head. 

“No,” she says, “Kyle seems to think you don’t want me in your head.”

“He’s right,” Alex says. 

“So I compromised by putting us in kind of an in between place,” she says, folding her arms, “wake up and we can leave.” 

Alex glares at her.

“You think I want to be stuck here?”

“Do you?”

“No!”

Isobel gives him a long, hard look but Alex refuses to quake under it. He’s been staring down monsters since he was a kid, she doesn’t even register on that scale even though the logical part of him points out that she could kill him if she wanted to. He gets the impression that she doesn’t. Or she does, but she won’t. Instead she glances around at the white boxed place as if considering something before looking back at him. Alex knows what she’s going to say before she says it, but it still catches him off guard. 

“What are your intentions with my brother?” She asks.

“Seriously? You’re giving me the ‘don’t break my brothers heart or I’ll end you’ talk while I’m stuck in my head?” Isobel looks at him steadily, “I don’t have any intentions with him, we aren’t together.”

She considers him for a moment and then a chair folds up from nowhere and she sits on it, crossing her legs. He knows a predator gaze when he sees it and fights against the urge to fold. He’s not going to be threatened in his own mind, furthermore not by one of Michael’s siblings. His relationship with Michael is something he’s guarded his entire life. It’s not something he’s about to involve other people in. Isobel has terrifying control over this blank space and Alex’s senses kick in, immediately telling him he needs to get the hell out or establish some kind of strategy. Nothing is usable as far as he can tell, but he’s worked magic on blank screens before. He looks around and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Isobel slip her hand into the catsuit and pull out a book that definitely couldn’t have been there before. She flicks the page with her perfectly manicured fingers. 

“What is that?” He asks finally.

“This?” She says, pointing at the book, “you mean this book?”

“Isobel,” He says with a warning tone that makes her glare. 

“Oh you wouldn’t be interested in this,” she says, flicking the pages, “since you and Michael aren’t together and you have no intentions with him, I guess you have no interest in embarrassing photos of baby Michael.”

Alex stares at her. Michael had a wildly unhappy childhood. There’s no way those exist. There’s no way Isobel would psychically have an album of the few happy moments in that childhood. It’s a low move but even Alex can’t deny it’s effectiveness. Especially when another chair folds itself up out of seemingly nowhere. Isobel does her best not to look positively gleeful as he comes over and sits down. He doesn’t know how to answer her question but she seems to have dropped it in favor of embarrassing her sibling. There’s something so achingly familiar about that, it almost makes Alex miss his siblings. Almost.

“Okay so this is when we came out of the pods,” she says, “Michael came out first, then me, then Max,” she says, showing him a picture of the three of them in a pile in front of them. They’re all happy and surprised, thrilled not to be alone. He immediately picks Michael out, “he came out with those curls,” Isobel says.

She flips the page to them all wrapped in towels, seeing each other for the first time cleaned off. This time the curls are slicked down but Alex is too familiar with that surprised, happy expression to not recognize it. Isobel shows him other pictures, but some are blurred out. Alex knows those are ones she doesn’t think are shareable. Given where they are in the timeline and what he knows, he can guess at them. She flips the page and grins at the last picture, holding it out to him. Alex looks at it. The three of them are on a picnic blanket and it’s the picture of a long summer day in the desert. They’re all laughing at something but Michael’s head is twisted away. Alex tries not to look too hard at the mostly healed burn on his forearm. His eyes narrow as he realizes what or who Michael is looking at in the distance.

“The day Michael discovered he liked boys,” Isobel says, “or a boy,” she smiles, “look at you about to go full emo. Black in the middle of the summer. I always liked your style.”

“I didn’t know he saw me that day,” Alex admits finally.

He remembers that day. How he was already well into feeling self conscious about his body and sexuality. How when he was a kid, girls being gross was fine but now they weren’t to everyone else. Gross wasn’t the right term, but he had come to the realization he didn’t think they were as no-gross as everyone else. He didn’t want to do any of the things most of his friends wanted to. Or, he didn’t want to do them with girls. He’d much rather do them with boys. He was out in the desert just to try and clear his head when he saw the Evans siblings with a new boy. A new boy who had no way of knowing that he had these thoughts but would soon enough. Max Evans probably told him. So Alex had just walked away. Never once considering that the curly haired, hazel eyed boy would be feeling something similar.

“I think you should wake up and talk to him,” Isobel voices.

“I tried,” Alex says, “he didn’t want to talk.”

“One time,” she says, “I know that probably threw you for a loop—“

“Am I supposed to be alright with him making out with someone else?” He cuts in. Isobel sighs but the stab of his very good point is short lived. 

“Have you told him you want to be monogamous?” Alex glares, “or have you told him you don’t want him making out with other people?”

“I don’t control him,” he says, handing her the picture but she refuses to take it.

“You know he’s trying to get your attention, don’t you?” She says, “you’re lucky he’s an alien, it’s a miracle he doesn’t have an std by now,” she gets to her feet, “I have to go, your mind is starting to fight me and I don’t want to go there out of respect to you,” she says, “maybe you don’t know what you want from him, but I think you do. Just like I think he knows what he wants from you. Love is scary, but if it’s less scary than not being with the person, it might be worth a shot,” she shrugs, “but what do I know? I married a serial killer without realizing it.”

It’s deceptive how she says it, but Alex recognizes the defensive humor for what it is. In that moment he thinks he might understand Isobel better than he thought. 

“I unknowingly made out with an alien in the ufo emporium,” he points out. 

Isobel laughs.

“I always knew I liked you. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll kill you for him, but I would prefer not to,” she looks around, “try to wake up soon. You and Michael could both use the rest,” she adds ambiguously, putting her sunglasses on. She pulls out a 90s style phone and puts it to her ear, “dial me out.”

“You need a land line!” He calls after her as she vanishes.

Alex looks down at the picture still in his hand and wonders what he’s gotten himself into. And how the hell he gets himself out. 


	4. Day 4: Alien Shenanigans

“Shit, come on. Come on get up—“

“M’fine—“

“God you are so the opposite of fine, get up!”

“No.”

“No?!”

Alex looks around the corner to see Michael a Guerin standing over Max Evans. He was looking for a place to hide so he could delay going home on one of his dad’s days off, but stumbling upon Michael trying to get Max to his feet is not something he was prepared for. The blackout makes everything look weird. Michael’s strong but Max is built like a linebacker. From Michael’s look of complete outrage, it’s clear that Max is going nowhere. Max seems to think this is hysterical and tips over laughing while Michael seems to swing from finding it funny to being pissed off.

“Ooo look, it’s the pretty boy.”

“Max!”

Alex frowns as Michael snaps towards him. Their eyes lock. Michael looks stunned to see him hear and Max lets out a snort of laughter. Usually Alex would go for it and show him what he does to people who call him that, but there’s nothing malicious or sarcastic about what he’s saying. And maybe there’s just enough of a sappy bone left in Alex’s body to hope that someone like Michael Guerin thinks he’s attractive. He looks from the still giggling Max to Michael whose starting to blush.

“How wasted is he?” He asks.

“Super wasted,” Michael says, “I can’t take him home, Mrs. Evans will kill me and if anyone sees him and he gets suspended—“

“She’ll kill you,” Alex finishes, “I’m not looking to go home either,” he says.

“We can hide out together!” Max gasps.

Michael for a moment looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. Alex feels his palms sweat and fights the urge to check the eyeliner he’s started to wear. And Max laughs so hard he falls over again.

“Help me get him up,” Michael says.

They each take a side and haul him to his feet.

* * *

 

_He’s upright, he realizes._

_Oh god he’s upright and naked._

_If he could move he would want to die. Being infirm is something he’s terrified of. Being dependent is too. They are currently happening at the same time. He’s upright and aware, but still trapped. His head is cushioned against Michael’s shoulder and he can feel something warm and damp wiping down his back. Michael wipes his back carefully, keeping him propped against his shoulder. His other hand is cradling the back of his head, keeping him there._

_“You weren’t supposed to get caught up in this,” he says, “I tried so hard not to get you tangled in this alien stuff. My stuff. That was the one thing that made you being away bearable,” he tells him, “you’d be safe from all this.”_

_Alex feels himself being eased back. He hasn’t forgotten Isobel being in his head, but conveying to Michael how he feels has never been easy. It’s always frustrating. At least before he had a choice though. The blankets shift to expose his legs. For all that Michael can make endless jokes about a situation, he’s respectful as he works down his good leg. Alex waits to see how he reacts to the missing one. There’s always the way people treat him when they know he’s looking and the way people treat him when he isn’t. It matters, he realizes. How Michael feels about this, how he treats it when he doesn’t know Alex is aware._

_Michael’s brushes and then settles on the scar. Not his fingertips but the back of his hand. His nails on the lines that denote where the back of his leg used to be. He hears Michael’s breath catch before his hand turns over and covers the mark and then curves around. Alex feels him carefully lift what’s left of his leg and change the position. He hears him turn a piece of paper over, mutter a curse and then tap on his phone. The trailer for the new Star Wars movie plays and Michael doesn’t skip it before there’s the kind of chime that usually plays before educational videos. Michael flattens his palm against the underside of his leg._

_“Preventing a contracture is a crucial part of any transtibial recovery. Today I will show you some great stretches to keep this from happening._

* * *

 

“Lift with your legs,” Alex says, fighting the urge to smile at Michael’s incredibly cute, frustrated face

“What does that even mean?” Michael snaps.

“It means lift with your legs.”

“My legs are fine, it’s my arms that are tired.”

He loses the battle and can’t stop the smile that cracks his face. He’s used to seeing Michael breeze through everything in school, sports, whatever it is. Seeing him growing frustrated should not be adorable but god help him it is. Especially because he can see how gentle he is with Max. Which Alex imitates but it also strikes him as deeply unnecessary. Michael glances at him over the top of Max’s head. He does a double take and then a smile that mirrors Alex’s own pulls across his face.

“It’s not funny!” He says but the smile turns into a laugh.

“It’s a little funny,” Alex says, “I got him, let go,” he instructs. Michael pulls his hands back and Alex sets his legs, taking Max into a fireman’s carry. Michael’s jaw drops like this is the coolest thing he’s ever seen. Alex sets Max down. Max looks dazed but when he looks at Michael, even in his wasted state he seems to know to keep his mouth shut, “legs not back. Power comes from the ground.”

Michael looks confused but then he looks away and then back at Alex.

“You’re really strong.”

“I’ve got three older brothers,” he says, “eventually you get tired of getting hit.”

“Your brothers hit hard.”

Alex swallows. It’s been years since any of them could land a hit on him. Michael looks down and then looks back at him.

“What do i lift with again?”

“Legs,” Max supplies helpfully

Michael sticks his finger in his mouth and jams it in Max’s ear, making him yell. They each take a side and haul ass to the bleachers. Max snorts as Michael gets him onto there. He catches Alex’s eye and they both erupt into laughter. Max drops his head onto Michael’s back when he’s doubled over and  together they lean him against the bleachers.

“How did you two become friends?” Alex asks, figuring Michael’s family is not something he wants to talk about.

“We met at the foster home,” he says, “he and Isobel and me were all friends there. Before we all left.”

He says it casually but Alex sees the same defensiveness he felt on his face.

“It’s cool you all wound up here again,” he says. Michael looks at him for a moment and the he grins.

“Yeah it is, huh?”

“Definitely.”

They stay for as long as they can until it’s finally okay to go home. Or more okay. He helps Michael get Max into Max’s car. He wants to ask if he has a ride home but he can’t find the words. Instead he shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at him. Trying to draw whatever he can out of this. Even just another moment.

“I had a good time today,” he offers.

“Me too,” Michael echos. He glances back at Max and then back at Alex, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“If they get the power back on,” Alex says.

“I think they will,” Michael says.

“How do you know that?” He asks.

“Dunno, just a guess,” Michael says, scuffing his foot, “it’s Roswell, what else do they have to do around here but fix things?”

“Find aliens?” Alex offers.

Michael shakes his head.

“You’re a funny guy,” he says again, “I gotta get him home. Night.”

Alex waves until the car pulls away. The promise of seeing Michael is enough to make the night not quite so bad. In the morning he tells himself that he’s just taking extra care with his eyeliner to have one less thing to be teased about.

It doesn’t matter.

In the end, when he gets to school the Evans Twins and Michael are all out sick.


	5. Day 5: Canon, canon divergence, what-ifs, fix-its

He’s dreamed of Isobel in white, Max in shadows, it would be fitting that he dreams of Michael in colors. 

Isobel is in an in-between space, Max is in a memory, he’s not sure where he is now. There is a man there that he’s sure he’s never seen before in his life. He’s taller and broader, but he has the same dirty blonde hair and his lips have the same lines. It’s easy to equate him with Michael, even with the differences. The man comes over and looks at him carefully, like he’s trying to see something Alex isn’t sure is there. 

“Are you Max?” He asks.

“No,” Alex says, “i’m Alex.”

The stranger gives him a hard look.

“Alex Whitman?” 

“Alex Manes,” he says, “My mom’s maiden name was Whitman.” 

“Huh,” the stranger says, falling silent and then sticking out a hand “I’m Michael Guerin.”

Alex’s jaw hits the ground. He might compare every dirty blonde haired guy to Michael but never in a million years did he expect him to be Michael. This Michael stares at him silently, trying to give him the time to process what is happening. Alex takes a deep breath and looks around before focusing back on this version of Michael. He tries to see beyond the obvious differences between his Michael and this one. He’s older, built differently, and there is a steadiness about him that Alex has never seen in the other Michael outside of a few moments. 

“You don’t seem surprised to be in a spaceship,” he says. 

Alex shakes his head. 

“You know about aliens.”

Alex says nothing. He has no idea what’s going on, if his mind is playing tricks on him or something. This could be another alien or someone trying to find out about aliens. So he keeps silent. For some reason this brings a smile to the other Michael’s face, or at the very least a satisfied smirk. That makes him look more like Michael than any other. Even before he swipes a hand through his hair.

“Do you know Tess?” He asks. Alex shakes his head, “you still good with codes?” he nods, “Yeah, figured. This is Tess,” he says motioning all around, “not my Tess, but a Tess. Maybe yours, I don’t know. She does mind warping. But a mind can only get warped so many times before,” he makes motion with his hand that doesn’t make Alex feel any better, “can you read Antarian yet?”

“Yet?” He repeats.

“Yeah I’m trying to place you in the timeline. Our Tess got interested in Alex because he was good at codes and she figured he would be able to figure out our language.”

“Did he?” Alex asks.

Michael looks away. He’s more tense than he was moments ago. Despite being in some kind of alien spaceship or someone’s mind, he picks apart the body language. Something happened to this Michael’s Alex, something bad. Tess was involved and so was translating the alien language. It doesn’t take much to pick out the tight set of this Michael’s mouth or the measured way he holds himself together. His Michael does the same thing. This Michael is equally used to being watched and anticipates his reactions being used against him. Apparently some things are the same no matter what universe you’re in.

“I’m dead in your universe aren’t I?” He says. 

“Yeah,” this Michael says, “sorry,” he adds, “are you with your Isobel?”

“Am I with who?” He can’t stop the disbelieving laugh that comes out of him. The other Michael scowls, protective over his sister no matter where he is, “no, I’m gay,” he says. 

“Really?” He seems surprised. He looks Alex up and down and Alex rolls his eyes. It’s usually the response he gets, like he’s wearing some kind of obvious sign that he’s gay. Their eyes lock and the other Michael at least has the grace to look embarrassed, “Sorry,” he mutters, “our Alex wasn’t.”

“I figured,” Alex snaps, “how do I get out of this place?”

“I don’t know, you’re the genius,” this Michael snaps. Alex laughs, “what?”

“You’re possibly the smartest person I’ve ever met,” Alex says. 

He expects a denial from this Michael but he just jerks his head in acknowledgement. Alex knows he’s a stranger, but it stings to be on the other side of Michael’s walls this firmly. Though if things keep going the way they were when he was awake, Alex knows that’s his fate. He and Michael are very good at hurting each other and they try to protect each other though it rarely works out. He glances down and he can’t pretend he doesn’t notice the gold band around Michael’s finger. He’s married and given his surprise, Alex imagines that it’s not to him.

“Are you married to Maria?” He asks. Michael immediately shoves his hand in his pocket. Familiar, again. Michael protecting his family is intrinsic to his character. Which leaves Alex with the question of what is constant and what changes? “was it after I died?”

“Don’t do that,” this Michael says. 

“Do what?”

“What you’re doing right now,” Michael says, “I don’t know your life or my life in your world or what is going on but i know that look,” he says, “I put that look on my wife’s face a lot.”

“I don’t—“ he starts.

“Shut up,” Michael says, “don’t use this an excuse to pussy out when it comes to alternate me. I’m bad with all of this family crap. Intimacy, romance—“ he sighs, “do you see the stars when we kiss?”

“Do you mean that literally?” Alex asks. Michael rolls his eyes. Alex thinks back to the times he’s kissed Michael and the only stars he can remember are the ones his own head puts there, “no,” he says, “I’ve never seen you use your powers at all.”

“But we kissed, right?” Alex nods, “yeah, I’m protecting you. I’m protecting myself but I’m trying to protect you too,” he explains, “I’m scared to let you in.”

Alex feels like he deserves it especially now. He gets the impression that his father is not as much of an issue in this Michael’s world and even if he’s dead, he’s glad for that.  Maybe he was actually able to protect everyone in that world. It seems like a fair trade off. His life for everyone else’s. He’s surprised when this Michael strides over to him and claps a hand on his shoulder. It’s strange to have to look up to look into Michael’s eyes. 

“Do I love you, in your world?”

“I don’t know,” Alex says, “you—he—did. You’re taking care of my body in my  world.”

“Then I love you,” this Michael says simply, “I need you to sit tight. I’m going to get my Isabel to contact yours—“

“Isobel,” Alex says. Michael raises an eyebrow, “my Isobel spells it with an o.”

“Huh, that’s kind of weird,” Michael says, “anyway I’m going to contact mine to contact yours and try to talk through getting you out using me. We’re all clones of the same aliens so it should work. But if I don’t get to talk to my Michael, tell him to figure his shit out and stay away from my wife if he’s in love with you.”

This strange Michael doesn’t wait for his reply. He turns to the glass and it falls away. For a moment they are surrounded by the infinite darkness of space. Then the familiar blackness roars up and engulfs him. 


	6. Day 6: Crossovers, fusions, other fandoms (Harry Potter)

“Hogwart’s Champion will be Michael Guerin!” Everyone cheers loudly as a young man gets to his feet from the red and gold table. He grins and bows and makes his way to the room, “And the Ilvermorny inaugural Champion is Alex Manes.”

Liz shrieks and throws her arms around him. Maria whistles. They are a delegation but they are loud as hell. Alex gets to his feet and moves past the Headmaster. This is a serious responsibility and he plans to take it that way. The last time this kind of inter school tournament was held, the Great War happened. Now it’s time to try again. Ilvermorny has never been invited. But in this new age of cooperation and brotherhood, the doors have been opened. Alex has walked through them, the first of his kind. Michael is standing in the room already and immediately gets to his feet, sticking out his hand.

“I’m Michael,” he says.

“I know,” Alex says before he rememberers, “shit. Sorry, I’m Alex,” he says sticking out his hand. Michael grins widely.

“I like you,” he says, “this is gonna be fun.”

Alex swallows and realizes he might be in trouble.

* * *

 

The weighing of the wands is the first big when they are all together again.

Alex hands his wand over, fighting the urge to adjust his blue robes. Wands, like so many things, are viewed differently here. It’s not normal to handle another wizard’s wand and just handing it over seems—wrong. Even his father has never touched it, but Alex always does his best to keep his father away from his stuff. He hands the wand over.

  
“Ebony and Unicorn hair,” the wizard says and produces a shower of sparks, handing the wand back.

Michael watches the exchange before he is motioned forward. His own wand is Apple and Thestral hair. He gets it back from the wizard checking the wand after they create rings of red smoke and shoot a gold arrow through them. Still he’s glad to have the pale wood back in his hands.

“Looks like we’re the first two in everything,” he says, “maybe it’ll be that way when the tasks start.”

Michael flashes him what Alex is quickly realizing as his signature grin. It makes something warm curl in Alex’s belly and his fingers itch. He’s been doing wandless magic for much longer than he’s had a wand, but that’s something he doesn’t want to advertise. He’ll never hear the end of it. But Michael continuously makes him feel like he’s swallowed a firework. So Alex does what he always does in these kinds of situations and completely blows it.

“I think the last time two champions tied, things didn’t go so well,” he says.

Four things happen in rapid succession:

Michael’s jaw falls open.

Alex’s heart crashes into his stomach.

Michael laughs in a way that is more undignified and more charming than Alex think he’s ever heard.

Alex shoves his hands into his pockets before anyone can see the sparks Michael’s laugh makes him create.

He thinks he might be in love.

* * *

 

There are to be four tasks, for each school participating. The first is a test of the mind. Alex is almost relieved. He is amazing with puzzles.

It’s also a glorified rubbix cube.

He has been doing them since he was a kid.

He wins, Michael comes in a close second.

“I never thought those cheap ass toys would come in handy one day!” He says, “thank you toy drives!”

Alex looks at him in surprise. There is still the remnants of a caste system here. To be fair, Michael’s lack of a british accent sets him apart, but hearing that he grew up in a nomaj orphanage is not what Alex expects. The other two champions seem confused about the references so Michael locks onto him again.

“My mom bought one for me when i was a kid,” he says, hoping that doesn’t cross a line, “i’m surprised it lasted as long as it did.”

“Oh i stole my brothers before i figured out  how to solve it,” Michael says, “but hey at least that frustration was worth it.”

He claps Alex on the back and Alex swallows tightly before nodding.

“Yeah,” he says, “totally worth it.”

* * *

 

The second is a task of body.

Michael wins by being completely reckless at every turn.

Alex ties by being brave but not stupid.

They both wind up cursed anyway.

He hears Michael yell somewhere in the ornate maze they’re running through. He goes to assist because you can do that only to see Michael sucker punch someone. He whips around and his eyes widen before he casts something over Alex’s shoulder. The curse goes wide and the force in Alex’s leg is blinding. He turns mid stumble before he remembers all the reasons not to and throws the spell without a wand. It slams into them. He winds up almost on top of Michael who is clutching his hand. He instantly recognizes the curse, a much much older one than the one that was just thrown. Michael is frantically checking a bracelet around his wrist. He looks up and sees Alex and they stare at each other silently.

“We have to go,” He says. Alex can feel what’s happening and hangs his head.

“Go ahead,” he says, easing back and pulling up his pant leg.

“What—“ Michael trails off at the sight of the metal. Alex swears and runs his fingers down it, shifting the bent pieces back into place. He rolls his pant leg down and looks up to see Michael’s hand thrust out in front of him. The twisted one, not the good one, “come on,” He says.

Alex takes his hand and Michael shifts the bracelet, the hand shifting back to match the other. Alex never bothered with the illusions that would make his legs match, he never saw the point. If his leg made people uncomfortable that wasn’t his problem. They find the keys they will need along with their maps and cross the line together. They match in points and get additional ones for sportsmanship.

“How did you do that with your hand?” Michael asks.

“We usually learn wandless magic first,” He says. Michael nods, “I could show you sometime?” A relieved smile cracks Michael’s face.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

* * *

 

“Max asked me to the ball!” Liz says breathlessly.

Right. The ball.

Alex is under no illusions he’s being scrutinized. He is the first champion from his school, he’s performed magic without a wand and a handful of people known he has a metal leg. There are a lot of things Alex has struggled with in his life and things he wants to keep to himself. His sexuality isn’t one of them.

“You need a date,” the headmistress explains in one of their meetings.

“Do I need a date or do I need to dance with a girl?” Alex asks. She looks confused, “I’m gay,” he says, “I don’t date girls.”

“It’s proper to dance with a girl,” she says, “but no rules forbid dancing with a boy. I’m not sure how it would work—“ she trails off, “but I’m sure you can figure it out. You should be the one doing the lifts. Not being lifted.”

“I can manage,” he says.

He feels Michael staring at him. If this is the deal breaker in their tentative friendship, we’ll, Alex figured he might just have to deal with it. He didn’t take Michael for someone who had a problem with gay people, but he’s made that mistake before. Maybe it’s just the crush he has on him that’s making this worse. Alex tries not to think about it too hard. Maybe he can ask Maria to go with him as a friend, though he did walk in on her making out with a blonde he’d never seen but apparently matched her bra to her house colors, which he could fully appreciate.

“Alex!” Alex turns to see Michael jog up to him. He braces himself, “can I talk to you? Alone?”

“Now isn’t a great time,” he starts.

“Please?” Michael says.

Alex hesitates only a moment before nodding. Michael leads him down a hallway he’s never been in before. To his surprise he motions for him to stay where he is and he walks back and forth three times in front of a door before opening it and motioning Alex inside. Alex looks around at the room. It’s big and the floor and ceiling are mirrored. Hundreds of candles are around and even though he knows it’s daytime, massive windows open to a view of the grounds on a clear night. Michael looks around the room, surprised as well before their eyes lock and he grins.

“If this is some kind of prank because you found out I was gay, save it. I went to NoMaj middle school. There’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“No,” Michael says, confusion on his face, “why would you think that?”

“I felt you staring at me,” Alex says, trying to think of ways to make this hurt less.

“Well, yeah,” Michael says, “no one here comes out and says stuff like that. It’s all rumors,” he scuffs his foot. Hope should not feel this barbed, Alex thinks, “I’m bisexual,” he says.

“Oh,” Alex echoes.

“Yeah,” Michael says. Then he sets his shoulders, “you wanna go to the ball with me?”

“Huh?” Alex stares at him.

“We have the ball—“

“I know, you want to go with me?” He says, just to make sure he’s heard right. Michael nods his head, curls bouncing and Alex thinks the hope sparking in his chest might kill him. This time when his fingertips start to spark he doesn’t stick them in his pockets and Michael looks from his hands to his face, so earnest and hopeful he feels his defenses crack, “is that a yes?”

“Are you sure you want to tell everyone?” He asks.

Michael crosses the space between them, pausing only long enough to make sure he’s probably not going to get set on fire and then he mashes their mouths together. Alex makes a muffled noise of surprise. He’s gay but there’s not a lot of gay guys in his class. His hands fist in Michael’s robes before he can pull back and he focuses instead on how soft Michael’s lips are. He feels the moment something changes and shifts, the kiss becomes something he never wants to stop as Michael’s lips glide along his. Boldness stirs in Alex and he nips Michael’s bottom lip, making him groan into the kiss. Alex feels his hand on his lower back, tugging him closer and he gives up his hold to tug Michael’s curls. Michael pulls back and pushes their foreheads together, his scarred hand tucking hair behind Alex’s ear.

“I’m sure I want to go to the ball with you,” Michael breathes.  

“I guess we’re going to have to figure out those lifts.”

* * *

 

Once they kiss it is supremely difficult not to do it at every turn.

They fail. A lot.

Especially like right now when they are supposed to be studying but Michael has him up against the bookshelf, kissing and nibbling down his throat. Alex is biting back every sound he wants to make at the ministration but they still get caught in his chest, right around where Michael has his hands. He feels him smile against his throat.

“Shhhh,” he breathes against the skin, “this is a library.”

Alex tugs his hair and Michael pushes their hips together. Then he jerks back and pulls Alex with him, adjusting his robes as he goes. Alex follows as he pulls him back to the room where he asked him to the ball. Michael looks at him and Alex nods, following him back into the room and the bed that definitely wasn’t there before.

“What happened to your hand?” Alex asks after, when they lay tangled up in each other.

“Hippogriff accident,” Michael says. Alex shoves his shoulder, “why do you wanna know?”

“I wanna know everything about you,” Alex confesses.

“I got cursed when I was a kid,” Michael says. Alex wishes he didn’t know anyone who would curse a kid, but that’s not true. Instead he nuzzles closer to Michael, “I figured out how to contain it,” he says, “my brother helped.”

They fall silent until Michael glances down at his missing leg.

“Car accident,” Alex says, “I woke up in a NoMaj hospital.”

“Did you want to get it fixed?” Michael asks.

“They can’t,” Alex says, fighting the urge to get up and run. Michael’s hand tightens on his hip.

“Why not?”

“Same reason,” Alex says.

The thought occurs to him and it must show on his face. They rip apart at the same time and he almost falls off the bed, barely managing to get his feet under him. They scramble for their clothes and at least get their underthings on before they turn to face each other. Michael knows, is his first thought. The second his how the hell could Michael not tell him.

“My dad—“

“Alex—“

“My dad did that to you,” He says, “didn’t he?” Michael looks down, “how could you not tell me!”

“You’re not your dad,” Michael says, “I know you aren’t. Look what he did to you!”

“I have to go,” Alex says.

Michael’s gaze is hot on him but Alex doesn’t care. He has to get out of here. His dad maimed Michael. His dad maimed them both but for Michael it’s different. This feels like his fault. His dad would have maimed him either way. Michael probably could have escaped it if he had been luckier. Alex can’t look at him directly but he can see the marks he’s sucked into Michael’s skin. All he can see are the marks his family has left on him.

He flees.

* * *

 

Alex is used to being under scrutiny for any number of things. The only thing he tries to avoid acknowledging he’s being stared at for his his father. Jesse Manes is a monster. But he spent a long time as an insidious one, one that no one really looked at. Not until he tried to curse Kyle who has always been unbearably clever and determined. Kyle also doesn’t have a dad or a secret, but deep down Alex thinks that wouldn’t have made a difference. Kyle shows up, still weak and shaking from the curse his father threw and brings half of

MACUSA with him to throw his father in prison.

Alex has never been more proud to be in the same house as him.

It isn’t hard to find out what his father did. He’s responsible for ruining Michael’s life. Alex knows he isn’t his father and there are people like Kyle who have never thought of him that way. But there are plenty like Michael who have tied them together. Alex can’t blame them, but he doesn’t think it’s ever hurt so much before. Alex refuses to be a coward about this and forces himself to look at what his father did. It’s not just Michael’s hand. It’s Michael’s family. His father ruined Michael’s life and Michael didn’t say anything.

He has no idea how to feel about that.

“You can’t just assume he’s going to hate you,” Kyle argues as they run around the Quidditch pitch, “that’s not fair to either of you. Just talk to him.”

“I’d hate me,” Alex says.

“I don’t,” Kyle says, “which is why we’re here now.”

Alex whips around to see the Gryffindor Quidditch Team talking. Their Captain turns to Michael and Alex can see them arguing. Michael is a Beater, Max is a Keeper. The rest of the team looks bored as they snip at each other, but this is probably nothing new. The sharp whistle draws their attention and Alex sees the blonde jab her finger down. By the time he turns he and Michael are making eye contact. Kyle puts a hand on his shoulder and Alex takes back every nice thing he ever thought about him as Michael grabs his broom and gets down to where he is. He looks good in his robes but then again, Alex kind of thinks he’d look good in anything.

“I need to talk to you,” Michael says.

“That’s not a good—“

“Please,” He says, “it’s important.”

Alex can’t say no, much as he wants to. Irrationally he wishes that he was back at Ilvermorny with an ocean between him and Hogwarts. But he follows Michael as Michael shoulders his broom and leads him away, ignoring everyone else’s shouts. He leads him to the Great Lake. Alex forces himself to stand there as Michael turns to him.

“I don’t think you are you dad,” he says. Alex looks down, “I don’t blame you for this, I can keep you two separate—“

“No you can’t!” He shoots back, “my dad and I have the same blood. The thing that did that to you is in my veins.”

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Michael protests.

“You’re lying,” Alex says, “it’s fine. It would be weirder if it didn’t matter. You should find someone else to go to the ball with,” he turns to go and Michael grabs his arm. Alex rips it free, “don’t,” He says.

“You can’t decide this for both of us!” Michael yells after him, “Alex!”

He keeps walking, ignoring the shouts of his name. Michael can claim whatever he wants, the truth is that there is no way to untangle him from his dad. No more than he can untangle Michael from his curls, it will always be there. Always be a knife in their relationship. One of them has to have the sense to put an end to it before it hurts more. Alex takes it upon himself to be the one to rip the bandaid off.

He hates that Michael would get that reference.

* * *

 

Michael shows up at the ball with a pretty girl.

He goes with Kyle and still gets to cause a scandal.

The night is not as bad as it could have been.

* * *

 

“Alex?”

Alex turns to face his next test and feels his heart leap into his throat. The man standing in front of him is Michael. An older and, if possible, hotter version of the one he can’t look at. There is something unbearably right about how he looks, even if some of the details are wrong. Alex refuses to give in to the urge to throw his wand down. This is a test of his soul. He’s not going to fail it.

“Is that a wand?” His eyes widen, “Alex—“

“Stupefy!”

The last thing Alex is expecting is for Michael to throw his hands out and cast a shield charm. Or he things it’s a shield charm, he’s not sure. Nothing changes but the spell goes flying. Alex’s eyes narrow. This doppelgänger or alternate Michael or whatever he is, looks outraged and then back at him. Alex raises his wand but Michael stalks towards him undeterred, throwing out something that takes the wand from his hand. Alex didn’t grow up with a monster for nothing though and when this older version of Michael gets close enough, he plants his good foot and slams his prosthetic into this Michael’s shin.

“What the fuck?!” He takes him down the rest of the way, “I’m trying to help you ungrateful piece of—“

“Stupefy!” He orders again and Michael passes out and then fades. Alex swallows and grabs his wand, getting to his feet and running towards the checkpoint. Out of the shadows steps a twisted version of himself, “Huh?”

“Come on Alex,” the demonic version of himself says, “you know how we feel about surprises.”

He shakes out any lingering emotions about seeing Michael and faces off against himself. He has always been his own worst enemy, but if anyone knows how to defeat himself it’s him. He ignores his wand and rushes his doppelgänger, tackling it to the ground. He beats himself into submission easily, though he does it with his fits and gets a split lip in the process. He doesn’t care as his doppelgänger explodes into ash and he staggers to the checkpoint. Michael is the only one there and he stubbornly refuses to acknowledge him. For once Alex is glad, after fighting Michael he’s not sure he can look at him either.

It’s not until the other two champions get there and everyone is discussing defeating themselves that he realizes everyone only fought one opponent. No one acts like it’s strange he fought two. No one even acknowledges it. He doesn’t know much about the other two champions but if he had to fight Michael, why didn’t Michael have to fight him? Unless Michael has realized that he can’t see past what Alex’s family has done, what he has done. Maybe the test is that in his soul, Alex knows he loves him but Michael doesn’t feel the same.

Better now than later, he supposes.

He can taste the ash in the back of his throat. It’s alright, he tells himself. This is what should be. Michael is leading him by handful of points. If he wins the last test by a wide margin he’ll be the champion. The last test is of the heart. Alex finds it fitting that he has to beat Michael as best he can.

If he pulls it off, he really will have beat his heart.

He looks over at Michael who is quiet. Unusually so. It’s almost like he’s asleep, though his eyes are open. He blinks and looks around, like he’s forgotten where he is. Alex looks away before they can make eye contact. The only thing he’s concerned with is winning. Michael turns to him but Alex walks away before he can say anything.

He plans to avoid him until the task.

Hopefully until he’s back on the other side of the Atlantic.

* * *

 

“We need to talk,” Michael says.

Michael doesn’t even corner him in the room they’ve been meeting in, he pulls him into the nearest alcove one day and just says they need to talk. Alex shrugs it off, if they needed to talk, Michael would have said it before. If he didn’t, then this really isn’t necessary. He tries to look away but Michael is right there, his hands on either side giving Alex nowhere to go if he wants to keep his pride in tact. Pride is the only thing he has at the moment so he chooses to do it.

“We’ve said everything we need to,” he shoots back.

“No, you’ve said what you need to,” Michael snaps, “you don’t even give me a chance to think. Then you run off and get yourself hurt.”

“You have five points on me,” Alex snaps, “and a split lip barely counts as hurt.” 

“Any time you get hurt it ‘counts’ to me,” Michael retorts, the words somehow romantic and frustrating all at once, “Alex this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says through gritted teeth.

They look at each other in the darkened alcove, both worked up and angry and he still doesn’t expect it when Michael lunges forward. The kiss is furious and angry and rough. Their teeth knock together. Then it shifts into a bruising battle of force. Like they are both trying to communicate without words. He refuses to be pushed around like this though and seizes the front of Michael’s robes, shoving him back against the other side of the alcove. Michael pulls him closer and Alex grabs his hands, pinning them against the wall. He shoves himself back and looks at Michael’s bruised lips and his wet eyes and feels disgusted at how much he wants to keep kissing him.

“Stay away from me,” he says and shakes off the grab Michael makes for his wrist in favor of getting the hell out of there.

* * *

 

The final task they must complete is a culmination of everything before. It’s a call back to the protection of the Sorcerer’s stone, a series of tests that finish with the first two dueling for mastery. All the tests go easily and Alex is elated when he’s the first one but less elated when the second person to run into the room is Michael. He can do this, he tells himself as Michael looks around before his eyes land on him. Determination sets in every line of his face.

“You ready for this?” He asks.

“Take your wand out,” Alex says, tightening his fingers on his.

“I don’t need it,” Michael snaps.

“Fine,” Alex replies, setting down his own wand. His magic thrills with the promise of not being channeled through anything but his fingertips, “whenever you’re ready.”

Michael rushes him and Alex throws out the first spell he can think of. Michael banishes it, the same way the other one did. Then a wave of something comes towards him, but this time Alex is ready. He throws up a shield of his own, causing the wave to reflect and slam into Michael. Michael goes against the wall and Alex keeps the wave up, pushing the telekinetic attack back at him.

“You’re not Michael,” he says, “where is he?”

“I am Michael,” Michael snaps, “you’re dreaming, Alex! This isn’t real. We read these books when we were kids!”

“Liar!”

“I’m not lying!” Michael bellows back and the wave reverses. Alex pivots and it slams into the wall behind him, shaking the stone. “You’re dreaming,” he says, “you don’t have magic,” his eyes go over him, “you’re not a—whatever that is,” he says, “you’re a Gryffindor. Like me.”

“I’m a Wampus,” Alex snaps, ignoring the way he’s talking, “I’ve never been to Hogwarts.”

“Oh my God we are not at Hogwarts! We’re in your head!” He steps forward. Alex raises his hands, “come on Alex, you gotta believe me,” he says.

“I don’t have to do anything,” Alex shoots back, “least of all believe you.”

“Come on Alex,” Michael says, “you’re dreaming. Somewhere in there you gotta know this isn’t right. You sent yourself to American Hogwarts.”

“Ilvermorny!”

“That’s not a thing.”

Alex rolls his eyes. Michael has to be joking. This doesn’t even seem like a strategy. He knows he should be finishing the duel but something about how earnest Michael is being makes him hesitate. It’s a weakness he knows he’ll pay for if Michael wins. But Michael doesn’t even seem to know they’re dueling, let alone that he should be trying to beat him.

“This is a bad strategy for trying to win,” he tells him.

“I’m only trying to win one thing and it’s not this,” He says, “do you think I would lie to you?”

“You did,” Alex snaps. Michael looks down, “you lied and you kept lying. You can’t forgive what my father did. I told you it’s fine, let’s just finish this.”

Michael stares at him.

“That’s not true,” he says.

“We don’t have to go through this again,” Alex snaps.

“We do if you don’t believe me,” Michael says, “Alex I don’t hold what your dad did against you. Maybe I did at the beginning but that’s not how I feel now,” he tells him, “I lost everything! You had to give me a chance to recover. I gave you one.”

Alex raises his eyebrows at him,

“We’re not the same person—“

“Yeah tell me about it,” Michael snaps, “you know who I am. You know what a mess I was—“

“You still hurt me,” Alex says.

Michael looks like he’s about to pull his hair out with frustration. Alex refuses to be swayed. If they are really having it out, he will say what he wants to. They can finally be honest with all their cards on the table. Maybe that’s what they both need.

“I’m sorry!” Michael erupts, “I’m sorry,” he repeats, “look I’m here. That counts for something right?”

“You’re here because you want to win,” Alex dismisses.

“No,” Michael says, “do the hand thing,” he says, “beat me. You can win.”

“I’m not winning like that,” Alex snaps.

“Why are you like this?!” Michael explodes, “why does your code of honor always matter more than me? Why is it so important?”

“Because I’m a bad person!”

Alex doesn’t mean to scream the words at Michael’s face. But they leave his lips and he can’t take them back. He’s never said those words aloud before. He’s always known them. He’s his fathers son, no matter what he does. But if he’s good, if he lives well, then maybe he can make up for some of it. In some small way maybe he can get out from under his father’s thumb. Michael’s look is familiar in a way that Alex can’t fully identify. He’s seen that look before.

“That’s not true, Alex,” he says, taking a step forward, “you’re a good person. You’re one of the best people,” he says, “especially when you break your code.”

“You don’t know that,” Alex says, “you don’t know what I’m capable of—“ he sees how close Michael is getting, “stop,” he says.

Michael ignores him and closes the distance. He doesn’t kiss him, he just wraps his arms around him. Everything in Alex’s body goes stiff at the touch but Michael buries his face in his neck, focusing on hugging him even though Alex feels incapable of returning the gesture. His eyes are burning and when he closes them, it feels like they’re fusing shut.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Michael says.

“You should be.”

“When do I ever do what I should?”

“I—“ Alex frowns.  _The world starts going water color and pink_. Is the part of the heart challenge? Or a different thing? He doesn’t feel any magic coming from Michael, “I—“

“See? You can’t think of anything,” Michael says triumphantly.

“I swear I can,” Alex argues.

“Tell me when you wake up,” Michael says into his neck, “okay, Alex? Tell me when you  _wake up,_ ” there’s a steel edge in his voice that wasn’t there before.  _Everything is heavy and warm. He’s aware of some shift, the only thing that remains the same is Michael’s arms wrapped around him, his face buried in his neck and the words, “wake up,” being said over and over into his skin. Alex doesn’t know why everything feels so heavy or it’s so hard to open his eyes._

_“Five more minutes,” he mumbles, turning his face into Michael’s curls._


	7. Day 7: Futurefic

He wakes up to the riot of Michael’s curls and the sound of his deep, even breathing.

How long 5 minutes turned into, Alex can’t say. Long enough for Michael to fall asleep on top of him. The clock on his nightstand tells him it’s late. But he imagines this is probably the first time Michael has actually slept in however long it’s been since they broke through the prison. He takes in the sight of his room, and of all the small changes. Most notably are the two chairs wedged together besides his bed, a blanket thrown over them. But he can also see there’s a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff besides his bed, carefully recorded information charted out there. He’s got a new hook in his wall where a bag is dangling and he can see the tubing going into his hand. Kyle has been here too. His fear of people seeing him as weak is dulled by Michael’s steady breathing. He feels it catch against his collar bone and Michael blearily lifts his head.

“Hi,” Alex says, taking in the bruising under Michael’s reddened eyes and the gaunt look on his cheeks. All of which goes away in an instant.

  
“Hi?” Michael repeats, “ _Hi_?”

His outrage is so welcome and adorable that Alex is hard pressed not to smile. Michael pushes himself up, putting his hands on either side of his shoulders. Alex hasn’t been so hungry, horny and in need of a shower in a very, very long time. The last time he was like this though, Guerin was just a memory, not a warm weight pressing on his hips and glaring down at him. Actually—Alex fails to contain the smile on his lips. Which only makes the outrage on Michael’s face even more adorable.

“What the hell are you smiling about?” He demands.

“The last time I woke up feeling like this, the thought of you seeing me so weak was terrifying,” he says.

Michael scowls and whatever knot is left in Alex’s chest unravels.

“Don’t try to ‘cute’ your way out of this,” he says, “shower or food?”

“Shower,” Alex says.

Showering is almost orgasmic. He isn’t surprised to find he doesn’t smell to high heaven and his facial hair is well tended to. He’s very aware that the only needs Michael ignores are his own. He puts on his prosthetic, knowing his leg could use the exercise. Walking isn’t as bad as it could be, but he still takes the cane as insurance. When he comes out Michael is re-heating burgers and fries he recognizes as being from the Crashdown Cafe. There’s something even more endearing about the knowledge that he’s watching an alien reheat Crashdown burgers and Futuristic Fries. Michael puts one in front of him and takes the other, also getting two beers Alex knows he didn’t buy before he went off with Kyle.

“I found your grocery list,” Michael says, “I sent Valenti out for it.”

“How did you find that?”

“It was on the fridge,” Michael says, “alien magnet was a nice touch.”

Alex blushes.

“I had that before I knew.”

The burger is so good he almost moans. Almost. Michael watches him carefully like he’s not going to finish his food unsupervised. Alex eats everything and steals a few fries off of Michael’s plate. Which Michael lets happen and that, more than anything else, tells Alex how concerned he was. Basic needs met, Alex looks at Michael who finishes his burger silently. He supposes this talk was inevitable, one way or another.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” Michael replies. Alex dips his head.

“Michael—“

“No,” Michael cuts him off, “it’s my turn,” he says, “and I am either going to talk or not talk and you are just going to have to deal with it,” he snaps. Alex reminds himself that he just scared the shit out of Michael and forces himself to nod. He expects Michael to ask him what the hell he was thinking but Michael just looks at him, “you are not a bad person.”

Alex doesn’t know why he thought that what happened while he was dreaming would be off limits. He immediately feels like an idiot for thinking that.

“Guerin—“

“I’m not done!” Michael says, “you are not a bad person,” he repeats. Alex shifts, “you’re tangled up with a lot of fucked up shit in my head, if anyone gets to call you a bad person it’s me. And I’m telling you you’re not,” he leans across the table, “you’re a lot of things I’m not a huge fan of at the moment but you’re not bad.”

“What things?” Alex asks before he can stop himself. He can chalk it up to morbid curiosity.

“You’re a stubborn dick,” Michael says, “with a way too vivid imagination and a really fucking inconvenient need to prove himself,” he says, “you apparently read whatever that new Harry Potter thing is and also my alternate clone self apparently thinks you’re a ‘cool dude’,” Alex almost smiles at that, “you make all these faces when you sleep and sometimes you snore. Loudly,” Alex looks down, “and you scared the shit out of me. What if you hadn’t woken up? You know how many nights I laid awake sure you died fighting your dad’s war? What if instead you died fighting mine?”

Alex’s mouth goes dry at the challenge but he refuses to back down. Instead he leans forward.

“This isn’t just your fight,” he says.

“Well it sure as hell felt like it this past week!”

“Not for me,” Alex says.

“What?!”

Michael doesn’t even stop the tone of his voice but the question flares in his eyes. Alex relaxes back in his chair. He remembers the other Michael’s and Isobel’s words. He remembers the odd mix of dreams and memories that seemed to occur the past week and how he slipped in and out of being trapped in his head and in Michael’s care. Mostly he thinks about the moments before all of this happened and how his last thought was about all the stuff he wanted to tell Michael but didn’t get the chance to.

“You know when you rushed my dad, it was one of the bravest things I ever saw,” he says, “one of the things that always haunted me was if we had taken him together, could we have stopped him? Ever since then I’ve wanted to be someone who could win battles, who was brave, but I forgot the other part,” he says, “I was aware this week. On and off. I felt you taking care of me.”

“You did?” Michael says, unsure.

“Yes,” Alex says, “and I hated having to be taken care of,” he continues, “but I didn’t hate that it was you doing it,” he can still see Michael’s unease, “but I’m sorry I worried you,” he looks at him, “and thank you for coming to get me.”

Michael blushes and looks down. Michael being in his dream is not exactly something Alex ever thought they would have to deal with. Then again, a lot of what they have had to deal with in their relationship isn’t something he thought would come up. From the alien thing to the fact that he’s still in love with high school sweetheart. Loving each other has never been their problem though. It’s everything else and Alex has never wanted to change it so badly. Ignoring the cane, he gets up and walks around the table to where Michael is sitting, taking the chair next to him instead of across from him. Risking it he reaches out and takes Michael’s hand.

“I want to tell you about the rest of what happened,” he says, “is that okay?”

Michael looks at him and Alex isn’t sure what he is going to do. He tells himself he will be fine either way. But then Michael squeezes his hand and turns to face him so their knees are bumping together. It occurs to Alex not for the first time that waking up next to him for all the mornings he wakes up would be nice. But that, he supposes, is a conversation for a different time. Instead he focuses on their knees bumping together and the fact that he wants to include Michael in this battle so badly. Possibly for the first time since they were in school. And for the first time, they seem to be on the same page. Michael reaches out and he takes his other hand.

“Alright, tell me,” he says.


End file.
